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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27922984">blue is the colour of melancholy</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ramenree/pseuds/ramenree'>ramenree</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>NINE PERCENT (Band), 乐华七子NEXT | NEX7, 偶像练习生 | Idol Producer (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Brotherhood, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Getting Back Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Melancholy, Non-Linear Narrative</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 09:55:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>16,577</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27922984</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ramenree/pseuds/ramenree</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Just about everyone is going."</p><p>"Oh good," Zhangjing said, though in his mind, all he could think was eight again. <i>Eight again.</i></p><p>It was always eight, because Zhangjing made sure that it was. If Yanjun was there, he didn't go. He suspected that Yanjun did the same for him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cai Xukun/Zhu Zhengting | Jung Jung, Fan Chengcheng/Huang Minghao | Justin, Lin Yanjun/You Zhangjing, tbh just nine percent boys being best of friends</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>50</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>blue is the colour of melancholy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hi! i just wanted to tell you guys first that this is probably one of my favourite fanfics that i've ever written. i tried to keep it extremely canon compliant, and did my absolute best to delve into each nine percent member. i really, really hope you enjoy this, because i loved writing it.</p><p>let's stay with our boys forever ♡</p><p>written for <a href="https://twitter.com/CHENLIN0NG">@CHENLIN0NG</a> on twitter<br/>special thanks to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/mifan/pseuds/mifan">mifan</a> for thinking of the title for this fic</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Zhangjing’s phone started to buzz with a surge of text messages, Zhangjing was cooking dinner.</p><p>He usually didn’t set his ringtone to be as loud or as jarring as it was, but he missed a semi-important phone call a week ago from Xiao Gui, and the man yelled at him enough for him to dial the sound all the way up, and choose the most annoying sound that he wouldn’t be able to ignore. Unfortunately, that meant that when he was carefully shaking salt into his vegetables, he was startled by the sudden beeping and vibrating coming from his phone, jerking back and accidentally dumping a good amount of salt into his food.</p><p>He swore, putting the salt down and tossing his chopsticks into the pan. Then, a little frantically and a whole lot annoyed, he picked up his phone from the counter and swiped it open.</p><p>Zhangjing frowned, furrowing his eyebrows.</p><p>The messages were from the Nine Percent group chat, and if Zhangjing scrolled up a bit, he could see that the main people talking right now were Justin, Chengcheng, Zhengting, and Xiao Gui. But then, he scrolled up even more and saw Xukun sending the occasional message, Ziyi saying some more. The groupchat, though they had maintained using it for all the years past, was rarely this active. And if it was…</p><p>Zhangjing frowned again and checked the date.</p><p><em> Ah </em>.</p><p>March 30th. It was a week away from their fourth debut anniversary. Zhangjing almost forgot. Usually, someone in the group would book a night at a nice restaurant or somewhere else quick and easy where they could all meet in peace. And for the past few years, the job had fallen on Zhengting, Zhengting again, Chengcheng, and Ziyi respectively. He wondered who had volunteered to do so this year.</p><p>To his surprise, he saw that none other than <em> Chen Linong </em> was the one organizing the reunion this year. That was strange. Linong wasn’t usually the one to organize larger gatherings like these. Perhaps he would call him later to ask why he was doing so this year; the boy had asked him to call him just to chat tomorrow anyways.</p><p>However, there was something more important he had to check every year around this time.</p><p>He scrolled slowly through the messages, not really reading the jabbering between Xiao Gui, Chengcheng, and Justin, looking for the WeChat icon that he hadn’t talked to in almost three years now, and when he found it, his heart clenched.</p><p><b>Cai Xukun:</b> <em> Yanjun, are you free this year? </em></p><p><b>Huang Minghao: </b> <em> he has to be he can’t skip again &gt;:| </em></p><p><b>Lin Yanjun: </b> <em> maybe. </em></p><p><b>Cai Xukun: </b> <em> what about you, Zhangjing? are you coming? </em></p><p><b>Fan Chengcheng: </b> <em> he skipped last year he has to come this year </em></p><p>Zhangjing paused for a very long moment, staring at the messages, lingering on the names and the words in front of him. It wasn’t until Chengcheng pinged him again that he shook himself out of the trance he was in and, shakily, replied.</p><p><b>You Zhangjing: </b> <em> maybe. </em></p><p>By the end of it, Zhangjing realized that his hands had gone slightly sweaty. A thick scent of burnt food was in the air, and he set down his phone on the counter carefully, as if it was going to break, turning back to the pan he had forgotten to take off the stove in his haste.</p><p>As he scraped the remnants of his overly salty, burnt food out of the pan and into the trash, he couldn’t help but curse himself out.</p><p>
  <em> What the fuck is wrong with you? It’s not like you’re a stupid teenager who gets nervous around their ex-boyfriend. It’s just your ex from three years ago. It’s been three years. </em>
</p><p>They hadn’t seen each other in three years.</p><p>***</p><p>Zhangjing met Lin Yanjun at the 2016 Banana Entertainment Auditions, after spending a week nervously pacing around in the tiny apartment his friend had in the city, jetlagged from the time differences between Malaysia and China, and losing sleep from the hours he spent carefully training his voice before the audition date.</p><p>He remembered exactly how as well. The room was full of other boys, all dressed in black t-shirts, all with pretty hair curling over their foreheads, all handsome, all thin, all nervous. Zhangjing carefully cut through the masses, sneaking glimpses at their nametags as they went. He was number 201, meaning that he needed to find 200 and 202. </p><p>There was a space between two boys at the far left side of the room. Zhangjing made his way there, keeping his eyes glued to the ground, until he could squeeze in between them and look as prim and proper as he could. He didn’t dare yet to look up at the two tall boys situated beside him.</p><p>Then, the instructor was clapping his hands, and Zhangjing looked up. The man rattled on about audition rules, pointing to different corners of the room, and Zhangjing tensed, trying to catch the ends of the sentences he had to say. </p><p>And then, suddenly, there was a light brush against his left side. Zhangjing turned, and his breath caught in his throat.</p><p>Because the boy standing beside him, looking a little embarrassed from how he had bumped into Zhangjing, was, by no exaggeration, the most good-looking person he had ever seen.</p><p>He had large, heavy lidded eyes that were a bit stern, sharp angles everywhere on his face, hard eyebrows, and an unfairly handsome nose that Zhangjing had always wished he had on himself. His mouth was slightly open, as if he was pondering whether or not to apologize to him. Zhangjing opened his mouth as well, to say what, he wasn’t sure (hot boys with hoop earrings made him feel weak), but then, he remembered where he was and what he was trying to do, and he shut it, flushed, and turned back to the front of the room.</p><p>However, not before glancing down at the nametag on his shirt.</p><p>
  <em> Lin Yanjun </em>
</p><p>***</p><p>“So are you coming or not?” Linong’s voice was amused through the phone. “You <em> did </em> skip out last year. And this year, <em> I’m </em>even the one organizing it.”</p><p>Zhangjing readjusted the phone against his shoulder as he rummaged through the sheets of music on his desk. “So? You’re no more special than any of the others who’ve organized it before.”</p><p>Linong whined. “That <em> has </em> to be a lie. You went to Zhengzheng’s that first year, and you went to the one Chengcheng organized.”</p><p>“Yeah, only because Chengcheng lied to me and said that he got me a signed Beyonce album,” he protested. “And I’m not choosing favourites. I couldn’t go last year to Ziyi’s thing because I had a variety show recording on the day.”</p><p>Linong sighed. “And this year?”</p><p>“I…” Zhangjing let his voice trail off. </p><p>He had to fly to Hangzhou the day after the reunion, and he had planned on working on some new music the day before. Both of those didn’t really conflict with the reunion. He<em> could </em> move working on music to April 6th, but that was stretching it, and Linong knew that.</p><p>Nevertheless, he tried anyway. “I… I think I have a song recording on that day.”</p><p>Linong’s voice was flat and unimpressed when he replied. “<em> Zhangjing </em>.”</p><p>“Okay, okay. Fine.” Zhangjing bit the inside of his cheek. “But <em> Linong.” </em></p><p>The plea in his voice must have been obvious, because Linong’s voice softened, and his tone was softer when he spoke again. “I don’t think he’s going to be there this year.”</p><p>“Are you sure?” He bit his cheek harder, chewing on it. “He went last year, didn’t he? And I didn’t see anything in his public schedules on Weibo?”</p><p>Well, he just gave away how he spent two hours the night before scourging in the Lin Yanjun supertopic, trying to see what exactly he was up to in the month of April. He thought his desperation was greater, though.</p><p>Thankfully, even if Linong picked up on this, he didn’t comment on it. “Yes. He said that he had some family things to attend to that day, and that he wouldn’t be able to come. Don’t worry, Zhangjing.”</p><p>Zhangjing let out a breath he hadn’t even known he was holding. “Oh, I see.”</p><p>“Then you’ll come?”</p><p>“Maybe,” he answered, and flipped a page on his music sheets. </p><p>Linong was silent for a long stretch of time, before venturing, even gentler. “Zhangjing, it’s been three years.”</p><p>“Hmm?” he hummed back, unwilling to say anything more.</p><p>“Don’t you think… It’s okay now, you know? It’s been three years.”</p><p><em> Yeah, I know </em>.</p><p>Zhangjing laughed shakily. “Oh, it’s not all that. Don’t worry. I really do have a song recording then, and I just wanted to check… I’ll check… yeah.”</p><p>“Okay.” Linong didn’t sound convinced, but he didn’t press it. “Send me a message, then, when you decide. But as a heads-up, <em> I </em>really want to see you with the rest of them again. It’s been so long since all of us have gathered together.”</p><p><em> Actually, we’ve never all gathered together </em>, he wanted to remind him. It’s always been three, or five, and a maximum of eight. The nine of them haven’t been seen together ever since that concert on October 12th, all those years ago. And it was his fault.</p><p>“I’ll keep that in mind,” Zhangjing told him, a little fond now of how eager the boy sounded. Linong was older, no longer the bright, adorable boy who had walked into Idol Producer auditions with a pink shirt and sunny smile. He had matured, had seen more over the past three years than he had his entire life before. He was still Nongnong in many ways, but he was more Chen Linong than anything else. So it was nice to hear him sound so genuinely innocent and bright for once, different from how weathered and serious he could be now.</p><p>They had all changed.</p><p>***</p><p>While remembering when him and Lin Yanjun met was quite easy -- it was the start of his career, after all, in addition to the start of… well, him and Lin Yanjun --, it was a bit harder trying to track down just when he realized that he looked at the boy more than just a friend, as well as when that thought transformed itself into reality.</p><p>He thought that perhaps it was early on in 2017 when he actually recognized that just maybe Yanjun was more important to him than he thought. </p><p>Yanjun was his roommate ever since the two of them passed auditions together, the two of them and another member of Trainee18, Gao Maotong, sharing a small dormitory at the Banana Entertainment Buildings. Most days, training was the same schedule: wake up, practice dance, practice singing, practice personal skills, lunch, then dance again until dinner, then sing and dance and shower and go to bed. In between, the trainees chattered amongst themselves, making friendships that Zhangjing didn’t know then were innocent and light, and sometimes, on the weekends, they would go altogether to watch movies, run around the city, get food, the like.</p><p>Zhangjing learned very soon from all this that the pretty boy who had stood beside him at auditions was less stern and less cold than he let on at the surface. Rather, Lin Yanjun was a funny man -- charming, sweet, sentimental at times, and thoughtful. And above all else, he was kind.</p><p>Zhangjing made many friends during his training period at Banana, but he wasn’t sure if there was anyone as strikingly kind and perceptive as Lin Yanjun was. There was no one quite as unforgettable as him as well. </p><p>There was one night, after a particularly hard day of training, and after he received a phone call he had hoped he would never have to receive, where Zhangjing didn’t go out with the other trainees to watch the new movie that was out. He smiled and said that he was tired, that he was going to take a nap, and even though some of them looked confused, they didn’t say anything. Chaoze, in particular, had looked a little worried, but under Zhangjing’s insistence, he hadn’t stayed behind like he had originally wanted to.</p><p>So when Lin Yanjun pushed open the door to their dormitory, Zhangjing, thinking that everyone was out in the city, was unprepared.</p><p>“Zhangjing?” Yanjun said softly, turning on the lights. Zhangjing, almost mortified at being caught, and not knowing what to do, curled up more securely under the blankets. </p><p>“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he choked out. “Why aren’t you with the others?”</p><p>He could hear Yanjun walk over, his tread soft and slow. Then, he felt the dip of his mattress as Yanjun sat down on it. “I thought you wouldn’t mind some company.”</p><p>Zhangjing laughed, the sound a little stuffy with snot and tears. “Maybe I wanted some privacy, though, by coming back here alone.”</p><p>“Maybe you did.” He still couldn’t see Yanjun, but he could feel him lean closer to him with how his hand made the mattress dip even more when he leaned over him. “Are you okay, Zhangjing?”</p><p>Zhangjing, for a moment, considered lying. He considered saying that he was okay, that he really did want a moment to himself, and that he would be back up and laughing and singing by the time the rest of them got back. However, he was lonely, and he missed home, and the boy who he had a special place for in his heart was asking him if he needed him, so he didn’t.</p><p>He shook his head. </p><p>Yanjun leaned away from him then, sitting back and resting himself against the bed headrest. “Do you want some time alone right now?” he asked gently. </p><p>Zhangjing thought for a moment, then shook his head. “Just… stay there for a moment, okay?”</p><p>Yanjun didn’t say anything, but Zhangjing thought that he was nodding. Yanjun shifted again, moving a bit closer so that his side was pressed gently to Zhangjing’s back, and then stopped. He didn’t make any more moves to touch him again. Zhangjing let out a shaky breath and sniffed.</p><p>“I miss home, Yanjun.”</p><p>Yanjun was from Taiwan. He was one of the only people around him that would understand, he knew. </p><p>“I know you do,” Yanjun said gently back. Then, there was a small pressure on his side, the touch of Yanjun’s hand on his blanket as he patted him gently. Zhangjing sighed into the touch, relaxed, and allowed Yanjun to stay with him until he didn’t want to cry any more.</p><p>***</p><p>Zhengting came to pick him up on the day of the reunion.</p><p>“Zhangjing,” he said, as soon as Zhangjing opened the door for him, then sighed long and dramatically.</p><p>“What?” he said defensively.</p><p>“We’re going to a <em> reunion </em> at a <em> fancy restaurant </em> ,” Zhengting sighed again, frowning at his choice of a jean jacket over a white shirt and jeans. “A reunion that all of China will be waiting for us to take pictures at. <em> At a fancy restaurant </em>.”</p><p>“I get it, I get it,” Zhangjing complained. He sidestepped to let Zhengting into the apartment. “But for the last reunion I went to, I wore something like this and you didn’t complain then.”</p><p>“I invited you guys to go karaoke,” Zhengting sniffed at the bowl of coconut rice Zhangjing set out on the counter. “Not to some expensive-ass restaurant in the middle of the fucking city with all the reporters and shit.” He wrinkled his nose at a small grease stain. “I thought that the last time I was here, you cleaned everything up already.”</p><p>“I had a bit of a mishap,” he said lightly, thinking of how he burned his food a week ago, when they first started planning for the meet-up. “And you’re not allowed to complain until you agree to come clean for me once a week.”</p><p>“I would come over more if I had more time.” </p><p>Out of all of them, Zhengting was the one who had continued to dance the most. He had been the dance mentor for a survival show recently, and had performed a few times with songs from his new album. Zhangjing was quite proud of him at how far he had come with his original work with singing and dancing, as well as his newer yet just as rewarding endeavors in acting. It kept him busy, at the very least.</p><p>Zhangjing allowed Zhengting to follow him into his bedroom, and didn’t say anything when Zhengting sat down on his bed. However, when his hands went to his shirt to pull it off and change into a more formal outfit, he raised his eyebrows at his friend. Zhengting conceded and looked away.</p><p>That was something that didn’t change all these years. Zhangjing was still uncomfortable with other people seeing him not fully clothed. Something about all the years of body-shaming that he had endured had led him to be more sensitive about who could see his skin and who couldn’t. </p><p>(In fact, apart from his close family and stylists, there was still only just one person who had seen him mostly without clothes.)</p><p>He changed into a pressed white shirt and black dress pants, before throwing on a black suit jacket with a row of buttons down the front. Zhengting tilted his head to ask if he could look now, to which Zhangjing said yes, and he turned around.</p><p>Zhengting frowned again. “You look good, but why are you dressed the way you did during our disbandment concert?”</p><p>“Am I?” Zhangjing looked at himself in the mirror, then looked at the picture of the nine of them on that day he kept hung up on the wall. Zhengting was right; apart from the hat, everything was mostly the same. “Should I change?” It wasn’t intentional, that was for sure. It just looked like it fit the occasion, which, now that he thought about it, was the truth.</p><p>“Yeah, you look-” Zhengting started, then seemed to realize something. He cleared his throat. “Do you still have the hat from the concert?” </p><p>Zhangjing turned and produced said hat. </p><p>“Wear it today.”</p><p>“But didn’t you just say that-”</p><p>Zhengting shook his head more urgently. “No, I was joking. You should wear it. It would suit the occasion well, I think.”</p><p>He was looking at him a little strangely, so much so that Zhangjing almost wanted to ask why he was acting so weird. However, this was Zhengting, and there was no use trying to really understand what Zhengting was thinking anyways. So instead, Zhangjing just sighed and put the hat on his head. “Are you driving today?” He grinned. “Oh wait.”</p><p>“Shut up,” he complained. “I don’t need to learn how to drive if I can just ask someone to do it for me.”</p><p>“Ask who? Xukun doesn’t drive either, so you can’t steal that privilege.”</p><p>“I can ask Ziyi. He fits all the criteria. He’s nice, he’s hot, he lives near us, and he knows how to drive.”</p><p>“I don’t know how Xukun would feel if you made Ziyi always drive you around.”</p><p>“Well then he should learn how to drive if he wants me to stop being driven around by other guys.”</p><p>Zhangjing laughed, and Zhengting did as well, the sound familiar and warm. Zhengting pulled up to him as soon as Zhangjing locked the door behind him, and threw an arm around his shoulders. “I have a car waiting for us downstairs.”</p><p>“And no one <em> else </em>will be waiting for us?”</p><p>“No one. You know me.” Zhengting jammed his finger into the elevator button, smiling again, though it was a bit more sad, a bit less vibrant. “I made sure that there wouldn’t be as many people watching us tonight.”</p><p>Zhangjing felt sorry for him. Part of the reason why Zhengting had moved near him in the first place was not only because it was at the heart of Beijing, but also because he wanted some familiarity in a city that was so cruel and so prying into his private life. Zhengting had always struggled with people invading his privacy, so much that he didn’t even like to go outside unless it was completely necessary. So instead, he surrounded himself with the people he loved, and let them go to him instead. Zhangjing was honoured that he was part of that group. </p><p>“So who <em> is </em> going tonight?” he asked him in the elevator. Zhengting brushed his brown hair out of his eyes and raised an eyebrow. </p><p>“Don’t you know?”</p><p>“Zhengting!”</p><p>“Okay, fine. Just about everyone is going. There’s gonna be you and me, of course, and Linong. Ziyi and Xiao Gui are going, Xukun is going, and Justin is already there, I think. Chengcheng said that he would be a bit late, but he’ll be there in time for dinner as well.”</p><p>“Oh, good,” Zhangjing said, though in his mind, all he could think was <em> eight again. Eight again. </em></p><p>He had seen the supertopic every year on April 6th. Everyone wondered why it was always eight, always seven, always three, and never nine. He had even seen posts where people claimed to have info on the failing relationships of the Nine Percent boys. For those, he usually scoffed at their claims that Chengcheng and Justin hated each other, that Ziyi and Xukun weren’t friends anymore, that Zhengting and Xukun had maintained their rivalry to this day. However, then he would see rumours on him and Yanjun, and he would turn off his phone right away. </p><p>He wondered what Yanjun had on the day. Linong had said that it was family, hadn’t he?</p><p>He didn’t know, of course, but out of them all, it seemed like Linong was the one who most consistently talked to Yanjun. All of the rest did so as well, but it was Linong who succeeded in talking to him the most after their disbandment, or at least, it was Linong who told him whenever he talked to the man. </p><p>Anyhow, it was always eight, because Zhangjing made sure that it was. If Yanjun was there, he didn’t go. He suspected that Yanjun did the same for him.</p><p>***</p><p>Zhangjing found him , a few months before they were to go on the new produce-themed survival show in China, on the top floor of the dormitories, a phone pressed to his hard-set face and his hands clenched into fists. </p><p>He hadn’t seen him slip into the corridor behind him, apparently, because he continued on talking rapidly and coldly into the phone.</p><p>“Yes. I’m going on a show in a few weeks.” Yanjun grit his teeth. “No, no. I’m not doing that.” A pause. “Don’t say that. Please.”</p><p>Zhangjing had come to collect him to play cards with the rest of them back at the dorms, and seeing the serious conversation he was having, thought that he should creep away. However, before he could do so, Yanjun raised his voice. “No. I’m not doing that. You need to… Please, just-” He paused again, listening to whatever was on the other side, before pressing his lips and hanging up.</p><p>Zhangjing turned to go then, but then, Yanjun turned to meet him face to face, and there was nowhere to run.</p><p>“Did you hear all of that?” Yanjun asked him, his voice shallow and fast. He strode over, his jaw clenched.</p><p>Zhangjing shook his head quickly. “No, not all of that.” Yanjun walked directly in front of him, his eyes smouldering. He was different from the Yanjun he had grown to know, who comforted him when he was sad, who read him poetry in languages he couldn’t understand, who whispered in Minnan to him whenever they pranked Chaoze again. And definitely different from the boy who laughed at how scared Zhangjing was right beside him after they watched a scary movie all together.</p><p>This Yanjun was angry, and he was hurt. He wasn’t confident or bright or gentle like he usually was.</p><p>But he was Yanjun.</p><p>“Your dad?” he asked him. Yanjun had always had issues with his family supporting him and the path he chose for himself, he knew. Yanjun once told him that his father was someone who particularly didn’t support his choices, and that he didn’t talk to them unless he really had to. Zhangjing was fortunate in that aspect, he supposed. At least his family was in full support of him. He couldn’t imagine how hurt he would be if they didn’t.</p><p>Yanjun nodded slowly after a brief pause. His eyes were still hot, though Zhangjing didn’t think they were angry that much.</p><p>“Do you want to talk about it?” Zhangjing asked him. Yanjun paused for another moment, surveying Zhangjing with his piercing gaze. From where he was, Zhangjing felt like he was being pinned to the ground by his eyes. </p><p>To his surprise, Yanjun answered, “Yeah, I do.”</p><p>“Then let’s go, then.” Zhangjing smiled and stretched out a hand for him to take. “It’s warm tonight, isn’t it? We can go up to the rooftop and watch the stars and have fun. Dinghao and Honglin wanted us to play poker together, but I don’t think they’ll mind too much if they’re missing two players.”</p><p>Yanjun nodded slowly again, though it was more sure. He turned away from him for a moment and raised his arm, presumably to wipe his eyes. Zhangjing pretended not to see him do so, and waited patiently for him to take his hand again. </p><p>***</p><p>While he and Zhengting were in the car, they listened to the new song Xiao Gui came out with a few weeks ago. It was heavier than the lighter rap songs he came out with earlier on in his career, but Zhangjing was glad for him. Xiao Gui was trying to reconnect with his roots as a rapper these days, and he was spending even more time in the studio, mashing together songs, sometimes with Zhu Xingjie’s help. </p><p>Xiao Gui hadn’t changed in a lot of ways, most notably with how he was still the happy virus of the group. Xiao Gui kept himself busy with music and variety shows, and as soon as he was free, he was calling up a friend to get food with them, to play with them, to hang out with them. He was like Zhengting in how eager he was to keep up with all of them, though unlike Zhengting, he wasn’t so afraid of going out into public spaces.</p><p>The way he did change was how happy he was with himself. A year ago, Xiao Gui had finally shaken off Gramarie Entertainment’s control, and had established for himself his own studio for all of his activities. It had boosted all of their moods incredibly, seeing that he could finally do everything and create everything that he had wanted to do since entering the business, and Xiao Gui wasn’t always so disappointed with himself that he couldn’t give his fans what he thought he deserved to give.</p><p>***</p><p>“Zhangjing,” Yanjun said back then, leaning against the wall outside of the dormitories. The sky was a dark blue, and the stars were out, and Zhangjing felt impossibly fond and at peace with the world as he leaned his back against the brick walls, licking at a red bean ice pop.</p><p>It was two months before they were to head into recordings, and a few years since Zhangjing had started his life as a trainee. Somewhere in between those numbers was the amount of time he had realized that he liked Yanjun in a way that was more than just simple friendship, and Zhangjing was comfortable with that too.</p><p>He thought he could tell Yanjun felt the same way. Yanjun was still the person he went to when he was sad, and Yanjun still gripped Zhangjing’s arm hard each time he called his father. There were a lot of details in between too, how they balanced each other out, how many little things they could laugh about, how much they cared for each other. Sometimes, Zhangjing even thought that they could be soulmates, that they were meant to find each other at one point or another. It didn’t really matter.</p><p>What mattered was when Zhangjing licked away the last of his popsicle and looked up at Yanjun, expecting his usual laid back, slightly flirty gaze, but instead coming eye to eye with a hard, smouldering stare. Yanjun reached forward and carefully took Zhangjing’s hand.</p><p>Zhangjing swallowed.</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>Yanjun leaned forward, and Zhangjing met him somewhere there.</p><p>Yanjun tasted like the orange minty toothpaste he liked to use and the red bean popsicles they just ate. He cupped both of his hands around Zhangjing’s cheeks and kissed him harder than he had ever been kissed before. Zhangjing closed his eyes, his hands loose at his sides.</p><p>When Yanjun finally released him, he was grinning. “You didn’t touch me back.”</p><p>“I-” Zhangjing said, dazed, then realized what Yanjun was saying. He flushed, shoved Yanjun away, and stared forlornly at the popsicle stick still gripped in his hand. “Stop!”</p><p>Yanjun just laughed and moved into him again. He pressed Zhangjing up against the wall and smiled down at him. “Stop what?”</p><p>Zhangjing flushed again. “Stop.”</p><p>Yanjun grinned and bent down to kiss him again, even more securely and firmly than he had the time before. By the time he was done, Zhangjing was gasping, his heart racing at a thousand kilometers an hour.</p><p>“I like you, Zhangjing,” Yanjun laughed again. “I like you so much.” His eyes were impossibly soft as he looked at Zhangjing.</p><p>Zhangjing shook himself alert and straightened to meet him more head-on. “I knew that!”</p><p>“I know you did.” Yanjun laughed again.</p><p>“Why are you laughing so much, then?” Zhangjing said, annoyed. His ears were burning, though a pleasant yet unsurprising warmth was crawling around in his stomach and chest.</p><p>“Because it’s so funny. You knew I liked you, and you like me too, yet you’re still so…” He trailed off before deciding on, “So adorable.”</p><p>Zhangjing rolled his eyes. “Let’s see if you say that after this.”</p><p>Yanjun smiled during his kisses, he found.</p><p>***</p><p>“I got a text from Chengcheng the other day, you know,” Zhengting said suddenly, scrolling through his phone but staring at Zhangjing pointedly.  </p><p>Zhangjing glanced in the window and readjusted his hat. “And?”</p><p>“Remember his thing about getting a girlfriend?”</p><p>Zhangjing frowned. “I thought he was joking about that?”</p><p>Zhengting shrugged. “He wasn’t kidding either when he said that he was lonely. He thinks that a girlfriend might be the only way he doesn’t feel so shitty sometimes.”</p><p>Zhangjing hummed, not sure what to make of the matter. “Well, if he wants one and is willing to take the consequences, then it’s up to him.”</p><p>“I know it’s up to him.”</p><p>They didn’t speak for a long moment. Zhangjing glanced to a side and saw that Zhengting was scrolling through his past messages with Chengcheng, his brow tensed. Zhangjing thought he knew why. </p><p>“Does he have any ideas right now as to who he wants to date?” Zhangjing asked, more careful now.</p><p>Zhengting sighed and finally powered off his phone. He looked at Zhangjing. “He said that he had a pretty <em> co-star </em> in the drama he’s filming this month.”</p><p>Zhangjing sighed. Somehow, he wasn’t surprised.</p><p>“It’s funny,” Zhengting continued on slowly. “Because he’s thought of dating his on-screen co-star, a girl he barely knows but thinks is pretty, but <em> still </em> hasn’t figured out that maybe he should be looking closer for someone to keep him company.”</p><p>Zhangjing smiled. “What <em> does </em> Huang Minghao think about this?”</p><p>“The same as always,” Zhengting laughed dryly. “He makes fun of him when the boy confides in him, then feels upset enough to talk to me and wonder why he’s so sad whenever Chengcheng says he wants a girlfriend.”</p><p>“It’s been five years, hasn’t it?”</p><p>“Mhm.” Zhengting glanced down at his phone again, which was on, and smiled at the slideshow lockscreen that currently displayed a picture of him, Chengcheng, and Justin, all grinning widely. “Well, at least from my perspective. No clue as to how many more years will pass until they realize that the reason why they’re so lonely is because of each other.”</p><p><em> The irony </em>, Zhangjing thought. Justin and Chengcheng had devoted themselves to their careers, Justin to variety and Chengcheng to acting. As well, both had stayed within the music circle, releasing an album and handful of songs apiece. However, their careers taking off meant that they were often worked to the bone, with very little time left to see each other again.</p><p>Chengcheng had started feeling lonely last year. Justin hadn’t said anything yet, but Linong told him once that Justin drunkenly confessed that he was tired of being all alone when they were at Linong’s house. That combined with the years of small things from both of them made figuring out what was happening pretty clear to Zhangjing.</p><p>(And perhaps, yes, it was partially because he had gone through something similar. Although he’d like to think that Chengcheng and Justin won’t end up like he did.)</p><p>“Maybe Chengcheng <em> should </em> date her,” Zhangjing said. “If he likes her, he’ll be happy. And if he doesn’t, maybe he’ll realize that Justin’s been waiting for him all along.”</p><p>“Maybe.” Zhengting swiped his screen and smiled at another picture of the three of them. “And Justin will have his heart broken even before he realizes what’s broken it, and then will eventually realize that the feelings he has towards Chengcheng aren’t just friendship.” Another swipe. Zhengting’s smile turned more melancholic. “But maybe, he’ll just shake himself off and move on. Chengcheng will stay with his girl and Justin will find someone else for him as well.”</p><p>Zhangjing hummed. Of course, even after so many years, Zhengting still held a special soft part inside of him for Justin and Chengcheng. NEXT had done well in the end overall, and even though it was only a group in name nowadays (much like Nine Percent, though they hadn’t actually disbanded yet), he still made sure to see each of his boys on a regular basis. It was natural that he would feel so responsible for them still.</p><p>“Maybe it’s for the best anyways.”</p><p>Zhengting glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, but Zhangjing had already gone back to looking out of the window again. They usually weren’t this somber, especially when heading to a long-awaited reunion. However, Chengcheng and Justin were making him think too much of his own little shard of happiness he had with another member of the group, all those years ago, and how, maybe like Chengcheng and Justin one day, he had had to let go.</p><p>***</p><p>Idol Producer was, above all else, a whirlwind of colours, hopes, work, screams, dances, stages that he, at the time, hadn’t known would be so important to him in the years to come. He hadn’t known then that it was the show that would give him his career, would give him everything he was now known for. He hadn’t known that it was going to be the show that would carve his name and the names of eight others into Chinese entertainment history, and set alight nine dreams that would be united under one name.</p><p>But at the time, it was just a show he was on, a series of stages and performances he couldn’t afford to let down for the fans he hoped he had. Endless evenings of singing and dancing, until the trainees were exhausted and nearly disillusioned with idol life.</p><p>Yanjun was there with him, at least. Since the very first ranking announcement, when Zhangjing opened that letter and saw the number 69 in bold staring back at him, and then remembered that there were 100 trainees there and that he was much too far away from the debut rank than he had ever thought. Yanjun was there for the performances, helping him dance better and making sure that he didn’t kill his throat from all the training. Yanjun was there as soon as training ended, smirking at him from the doorway with his arms crossed, better looking than all the other trainees (not even just in Zhangjing’s opinion anymore; he had been voted as the most good-looking trainee, hadn’t he?), waiting to take him to the convenience store, cafeteria, whatever.</p><p>In turn, Zhangjing was there for him when Yanjun placed so high in his first performance, received so many live votes for the talent he was finally being recognized for, yet received nothing in return. He was there when Yanjun pushed himself too hard, frustrated with his lack of visible improvement and increase in ranking, training deep into the night. He was there when Yanjun called his family with the one phone call he had, and emerged trembling from head to toe.</p><p>Zhangjing and Yanjun were there for each other, because that was what they had always done.</p><p>Zhangjing met some of his closest friends at that show, people he would cherish for years to come. Some, like Xukun and Justin and Xiao Gui, were so talented he thought it would be impossible for them not to debut. Others, like Chengcheng and Ziyi, were memorable and kind and he knew would attract millions of fans, because he too was drawn into their charisma and personality.</p><p>When Zhangjing’s rank began to rise slowly, he had hoped that he would be able to debut with them.</p><p>“Zhangjing,” Yanjun once said to him, sometime after the tenth episode of the show. Zhangjing had placed eighth that week, within the debut range of nine spots, and inwardly, he was excited. He was excited because eighth meant that he could debut with the rest of the boys he had grown to love, could finally show the world what You Zhangjing had that other people didn’t. “What if I don’t make it?”</p><p>Yanjun had placed eleventh. It was his highest ranking so far, and Zhangjing thought that it would only grow. He said as much to him. </p><p>Yanjun laughed when he said so. The two of them were sitting on Zhangjing’s bed, huddled together under a blanket, not cuddling but just leaning against each other, backs against the wall. From this proximity, Zhangjing could smell the scent of shampoo in his hair, and could see every long eyelash framing his eyes. “You always think that I’m better than I really am.”</p><p>“No, I don’t,” Zhangjing protested. “Your rank has only gone up since we got here. There’s still a lot to grow.”</p><p>Yanjun shook his head gently, though he was smiling. His silver hair was damp against his forehead. “Not with people like Bu Fan and Lingchao ahead of me. Even if I manage to get close to the debut spots on April 6th, one spot will go to one of the Kunyin boys. You know that.”</p><p>Zhangjing hummed. “I’m not saying who’s going to debut. I’m just saying that you still have a chance.” He paused for a moment. “I want you to debut.”</p><p>“I want me to debut as well,” Yanjun said dryly. He tucked an arm around Zhangjing, pulling him into him so that Zhangjing’s head was leaning against his chest. “But we can’t all have what we want.”</p><p>Zhangjing wanted to say that it wasn’t a matter of having what he wanted. It was about the fact that he knew that the fans would realize even in the little time they had left just how talented, how handsome, how good of a person Yanjun was at heart. But he didn’t want to say anything that would make him upset, so all he did was lean into him more.</p><p>“I want to debut with you, Lin Yanjun,” he said a little while later. “Promise that you’ll debut with me if I debut.”</p><p>Yanjun laughed. “Promise to debut <em> with </em>you?” He pressed a fond kiss at the top of his hair and tugged him affectionately into his chest. “Alright. I promise.”</p><p>Zhangjing could tell by how soothing his voice was that he didn’t necessarily believe that he was going to debut at all. However, it was a promise, at least. Zhangjing slipped his hand into Yanjun’s, twining their pinky fingers together, strangely reassured.</p><p><em> Lin Yanjun, I want to debut with you </em>.</p><p>***</p><p>But most of all, Zhangjing remembered the debut night. </p><p>He remembered most of all, standing on that stage, hearing the names being called in order, from eight, all the way up to one. Xiao Gui, Ziyi, then Zhengting. Zhangjing remembered turning behind him and glancing at Yanjun, who gave the faintest smile back to him and resumed looking as stern and serious as he could. </p><p>And then, number five was being called. </p><p>“Banana Entertainment Trainee, Lin Yanjun.”</p><p>He remembered how Yanjun started crying, right there, in front of everyone. Maybe people would say that he was being overdramatic, but Zhangjing knew, at least, how much this meant to him. How much it meant to show his family what he could do, what he could prove to himself about his own talent and deservedness for the results he would reap. Zhangjing hugged him, cutting through the clapping trainees surrounding him, gently reminding him to not cry too much in his ear.</p><p>There were a lot of other things he wanted to say as well. Something along the lines of <em> I told you </em> , or <em> you did it </em>. But there were cameras on him, and there would be time for them to talk after.</p><p>And then, Zhangjing was called as ninth place. He walked with shaky legs to the front, still numb and hardly believing that anything was happening to him. In fact, the details of what he said later on that night were lost to him.</p><p>However, he does remember one thing.</p><p>He remembered looking up at the fifth place seat, seeing Yanjun smile at him with that gaze he solely reserved for him, in a way that was both elated as well as apologetic.</p><p><em> Sorry, you were right </em>, Yanjun seemed to say. </p><p><em> You kept your promise to debut with me </em>, he wanted to say back. </p><p>Zhangjing ran up the steps, hugging Zhengting and Ziyi and Linong and Chengcheng and everyone else he would consider as brothers in the months to come. And then, it was Yanjun.</p><p>Zhangjing remembered how Yanjun had looked at him when he turned around from Justin, that soft yet hard gaze that made his dimples pool by the corners of his lips, blazing and so loving that Zhanging could have kissed him right there and then.</p><p>He didn’t. Instead, he pulled him into the tightest hug that entire night. Yanjun put his hands on his back and pulled him close as he usually did. Zhanging couldn’t help but say, his voice muted by the screaming, “Did you ever expect this?”</p><p>Yanjun pulled away and shook his head quickly. His hand was still on Zhangjing’s back. “No.”</p><p>It didn’t matter. He had debuted. And he had debuted with Yanjun.</p><p>***</p><p>Ziyi came to grab them at the door of the restaurant Linong had booked, saying that he didn’t want them to get lost on the many floors. However, after looking over at how relieved Zhengting was, he suspected that it was more so to reassure Zhengting than anything else. </p><p>Zhengting sent Xukun a quick text message and Zhangjing readjusted his hat just as the car door rolled open to reveal a grinning Wang Ziyi, and, to his disappointment, a hoard of reporters and fans swarming their car. </p><p>Perhaps it was too good to hope, not having reporters try to swarm them on the day of their annual reunion. Even if today was supposed to be a private meet-up, it would be stupid of them to assume that no one would be tracking their every move. And Zhangjing couldn’t blame them for wanting to, in some ways, because it was Nine Percent, and even if the name had faded over the years, the novelty was still there, and the people who were a part of it hadn’t forgotten.</p><p>However, for the most part, it was resentment that he felt when he glanced to a side and saw Zhengting gripping his phone tightly, his lips pressed together. The cameras around them flashed and brightened up his face for the briefest of moments, and during them, Zhangjing could see that, while he wasn’t shaking, his entire being was tight. </p><p><em> Xukun </em>, he thought. That was who he probably wished could come downstairs and collect them. Not that Ziyi wasn’t as caring and sweet as he had always been, but Zhengting was in love with Xukun, and Xukun, to him, meant safety and happiness. A piece of joy during his lowest and hardest moments. </p><p>Something to cherish at least, even if they couldn’t see each other the same way they used to before they disbanded. Two years ago, a rumour had spread that Zhu Zhengting was gay, and that his boyfriend had been a member of a group he was a part of. Some people said it was Cai Xukun, some people said it was Ziyi. It didn’t matter, because what mattered was what happened in the end: Yuehua Entertainment put out a strict notice to not spread rumours, and that they would be taking legal action.</p><p>But more importantly, perhaps, was that Zhengting and Xukun had to hide their relationship. They hadn’t broken up, per say, but they had drifted apart, then come back together, only to drift apart again. Zhangjing knew that they had reconciled recently, that Xukun had stolen away for a few evenings in Zhengting’s apartment just upstairs, but like the results of the rumour that nearly destroyed Zhengting, Ziyi, and Xukun’s careers, it didn’t matter.</p><p>Zhengting was always going to be Xukun’s home, Zhangjing knew. And Xukun would always represent everything Zhengting wanted in life. Even if they drifted apart, they would always find each other again. Mutual reliance was what both ruined them as well as brought them together.</p><p>(When Zhengting came to Zhangjing to cry over this, Zhangjing had let Zhengting sleep beside him in his bed, and had listened to Zhengting cry into his pillow for hours on end. He had hugged him and had said little, but when in the early hours of the morning, Zhengting had looked at him and asked, “Why did you do it then? Why did you choose to break up?”, Zhangjing smiled.</p><p>He didn’t want to tell him then, because it was shameful to admit to Zhengting, who had been so brave to continue through the hard times of his relationship with Xukun, who had clung onto his love and somehow still believed in brighter futures, that it had been because of his own cowardice.)</p><p>***</p><p>In true Zhengting fashion, the man clings to Ziyi like a leech as soon as the elevator doors shut behind them.</p><p>“Ziyi I missed you!” he gushed, draping himself over him affectionately. “You don’t call me as much as you’re supposed to anymore.”</p><p>Ziyi looked at Zhangjing with an expression of fond exasperation on his face, to which Zhangjing returned the equally-fond-yet-exasperated expression he always had whenever Zhengting got clingy. </p><p>“I was in America, and you would have been asleep when I would call,” he explained patiently. Zhengting pouted at him. </p><p>“When Kunkun was in America, <em> he </em>still called me.”</p><p>“Kunkun could work on his own schedule.” Ziyi smiled. “Xukun was there for his own tours. I was there to model. I can’t control the timing of when I have to be on the runway.”</p><p>Ziyi’s face was a bit sallow, he supposed, from the mix of the modelling, the music variety shows he had guested on recently, and the drama shooting he was currently focusing on. There were dark eye bags underneath his eyes, and Zhangjing resisted the urge to reach across and fuss over them. He didn’t exactly want to have the elevator doors open to reveal him and Ziyi in a potentially intimate setting. </p><p>Still, he inched closer to the two of them and put his hand on Ziyi’s. “Ziyi just had dinner with us a few weeks ago,” he chided. “And not everyone thrives off constant affection.”</p><p>“What he said,” Ziyi laughed, and slung an arm around them both. “Now, let’s get to that reunion. Just about everyone’s there except Chengcheng!”</p><p>He began to lead them down the hallway as soon as the elevator door opened on the correct floor. “I think Justin’s already ordered something to eat while you guys and Chengcheng were getting here.”</p><p>Zhangjing sniffed. “I’m not surprised.”</p><p>“Xiao Gui did as well.”</p><p>“Xiao Gui as well?”</p><p>“Kun said that he would wait for you guys, but I don’t believe that he wouldn’t sneak a bite from the kids.”</p><p>Zhengting whined. “I always knew Nong was my favourite.”</p><p>Ziyi shed a fond look down at Zhengting’s face again. “Nong had already eaten some of the food even before <em> I </em>got here.”</p><p>Zhengting whined again, and Zhangjing laughed, bright and bouncing off the halls. That odd feeling of excitement was building up inside him again as they approached the screen door that the other members must have been waiting for them in, a strange sort of anticipation less for the people themselves at this point but rather for the meaning of why they were gathering together in the first place.</p><p>It would be sore, maybe, walking in and seeing the faces of the boys who transformed his life, with whom he built his entire future on. It would be sore to remember the times they once had, and how much was wasted, how much was lost. It would be sore to remember everything they had been through, and it would hurt, perhaps, when there weren’t nine faces together again.</p><p>It had always been him or Yanjun, but today, by the sound of it, would be Chengcheng as well. How long would it be before the memory of Nine Percent faded away altogether, even for them? How long would it be until they stopped organizing the reunions altogether?</p><p>(And maybe it was a personal matter as well. Maybe, he was just tired of being hurt by the absence of a certain funny, thoughtful, handsome man.)</p><p>It turned out, he didn’t need to be too worried.</p><p>Because when Zhangjing smiled at Ziyi and said simply, “I hope the restaurant has enough food for all of us then,” Ziyi reached for the door and smiled back just as brightly, though much more mysterious and knowing, “Yes, we made sure that they had enough for <em> nine </em> people.”</p><p>Zhangjing didn’t have time to frown before the door was pulled open, and he came face to face with a stunned, blindingly real and close, Lin Yanjun.</p><p>***</p><p>At exactly 8:04 PM, <em> NINEPERCENT NINE PERSON REUNION </em>trended at number one on the Weibo hotsearch.</p><p>***</p><p>The cracks began showing after their debut, when Yanjun’s fans and his fans started brawling amongst themselves during a period of time that was supposed to be the brightest, happiest moments of his entire life.</p><p>Zhangjing once thought that the terror would be over after he debuted. He had once thought that he just needed to hold on until his name would be called at the finals, and that after that, it would be a generally smooth sailing path. Something that would be worth leaving home and missing some of the most precious memories he could have had. </p><p>He learned that that wasn’t the case when he opened Weibo and saw Yanjun’s entire fanbase, it seemed, as well as thousands and thousands of others all band together only to tear him apart. It didn’t feel like it was worth it then.</p><p>His own fans weren’t any better, tearing at the other fanbases, and crucifying Lin Yanjun to be the complete opposite from the sensitive, kind man he had fallen in love with. And even though the man brushed it off and said that it was nothing, and told him to stop looking at Weibo for the sake of his own sanity, Zhangjing still saw him flip through his phone himself, his eyes slowly turning somber and sad when he thought he wasn’t looking.</p><p>Banana took them aside and told them that they would have to hide and separate lest they wanted the fights amongst their fans to magnify any farther. That was the hard part, Zhangjing realized. There was a period of time that started during recording and stretched into fan meetings themselves that he, for just a moment, believed that it was going to be okay, him and Yanjun. The “Zhangdejun” ship was insanely popular, and the fans seemed to like to see the two of them together interacting the way they usually did with each other. And though he knew that if any of it was actually exposed to be as real as it was shown (which it was, and even more), his career and Yanjun’s career and many other careers around him would be destroyed, he couldn’t help but want to believe that the fans would be accepting of him regardless of what would happen.</p><p>But now, their fans hated each other, and his company was telling them to stay apart from each other.</p><p><em> We suggest you interact less in public </em>, they had said carefully, but Zhangjing wasn’t stupid. </p><p><em> Break up </em>. That was what they really said to him.</p><p>“No,” Yanjun said to him, later that evening. He sat on the edge of Zhangjing’s bed, his dark hair damp from the shower he just took, a loose t-shirt draped over his skinny build. He looked intently at Zhangjing, who was huddled under the covers, bleary eyed from trying to hold onto the little dignity and hope he still had left. “We’re not breaking up. Don’t even think that way.”</p><p>“Who said I was thinking that?” Zhangjing countered, but they both knew that that too was shaky. “You’re the love of my life, Lin Yanjun. I wouldn’t… I can’t…”</p><p>“Good.” Yanjun frowned, pursing his eyebrows together. He was strangely composed, Zhangjing thought, but then again, Yanjun was always someone who could pull himself together when it meant being strong for someone else. Zhangjing needed that right now. “Because I don’t think I could stand you leaving me.”</p><p>“I wouldn’t want to anyways.” Zhangjing shifted his hands around on the blanket, not sure where to put them. He wanted to reach out for Yanjun and take his hand in both of his, but the intensity of Yanjun’s gaze and the burning memory of the orders he had just been given stopped him. “But it’s not my choice anymore, is it?”</p><p>Yanjun studied him for a long time, and when he finally moved again, he was to move closer to him. Zhangjing looked up through his lashes and saw the hardened look on Yanjun’s face, the fierce gaze in his eyes as he leaned in to him, tilted his head up towards him with one hand, and pressed his mouth to his own. Lin Yanjun kissed him like there was nothing wrong with anything, like he didn’t know what was at stake for not only them now but for their entire teams. </p><p>Zhangjing couldn’t help but reach up and wrap his arms around Yanjun’s neck, however, and tug him in closer.</p><p>Yanjun tilted his head so that he could deepen the kiss, climbing onto the bed in a way that pressed Zhangjing down onto the sheets. Like this, Yanjun was hovering atop of him, his mouth moving on his, his hands running themselves along his neck and arm like he was something he couldn’t get enough of. Yanjun’s kisses were always passionate and a bit sentimental, much like the rest of him.</p><p>When they finally broke apart, Yanjun breathed down on him, his lips still hot and millimeters away from his face. “Don’t leave me.”</p><p>Zhangjing looked at him, at the quiet determination in his eyes, the soft angles of his gaze as he swept down on him. “I won’t.”</p><p>“I promised you that I would debut with you,” Yanjun breathed. “But you need to promise to stay with me now that I have.”</p><p>“That’s-” Zhangjing started, his voice changing into that of almost whining. “That’s not fair.”</p><p>“I don’t care,” Yanjun said hotly, then kissed him again, as if to prove his point. Zhangjing gasped when he pulled away again, heat flooding through his body and dispelling the coldness that had set into him since the afternoon. “I love you, You Zhangjing. I always have.”</p><p>Zhangjing didn’t try to argue against him any longer.</p><p>It didn’t matter in that moment all the pain he knew they would have to go through. It didn’t matter then about the weeks on end not seeing each other, how starkly they had to gravitate away from each other, how each time he looked on Weibo it was just people trying to tear the two of them down. It didn’t matter about needing to let go of the hand that had kept him company through some of the hardest times in his life so far, how he had to face things alone from then on, it seemed, and how he woke up for months on end with no one by his side and no one to say the three words that he had cherished and finally understood the meaning of when he met Lin Yanjun.</p><p>None of that mattered then.</p><p>Zhangjing had kissed him again, and eventually, had slipped his hands under Yanjun’s shirt, closing his eyes and letting Yanjun kiss him hard and leave lavender marks across his skin for the last time. At that time, only the Lin Yanjun in front of him, vulnerable and naked and exposed -- his true self --, mattered. </p><p>It still hurt, however, when weeks later, they were at a brand event, and when Yanjun turned around and began to walk towards him, his round glasses shiny and bright under the stage lights, Zhangjing remembered reality and stepped away from him, drawing out the distance between them until Yanjun seemed to remember as well, and, face falling, turned away from him once more.</p><p>And then, it was the months on end of not seeing each other. Zhangjing worked on music and variety once the scheduled group activities were over, and Yanjun did as well. He grew close with the other members of Nine Percent, and began to count down the days to their disbandment. Yanjun called him and facetimed him and texted him, and perhaps, in many ways, it was like nothing had changed.</p><p>That wasn’t true though. Things changed. Zhangjing wasn’t there when Yanjun called his father and tried to say what he wanted to say, only to emerge broken and lonely as ever. And Yanjun wasn’t there when Zhangjing felt like breaking apart over everything that refused to relent.</p><p>*** </p><p>“Chen Linong, why the fuck did you lie to me,” he deadpanned, as soon as he had dragged the boy safely into a toilet stall. “You said he had family matters today. Why is he here?”</p><p>Linong smiled sheepishly, his collar now a bit lopsided from how hard Zhangjing was grabbing his shirt sleeve. “I didn’t lie to you about anything. When you <em> asked </em> me if he was coming, he actually wasn’t. He was actually supposed to spend time with his family.”</p><p>“Then why is he here?” Zhangjing hissed. “Do you know how unprepared- no, fucking taken off guard I was? Did he know I was coming?”</p><p>Linong smiled again. “Well, from his expression when you walked in, do you think he did?”</p><p>Yanjun had stopped in the middle of what he was saying to Xukun and gaped at him, his mouth slack and eyes wide. Zhangjing thought that it was safe to say that he was just as surprised by his presence as he was about his.</p><p>“I fucking hate you,” Zhangjing muttered, then let go of him. “I fucking knew Zhengting was being weird about making me wear this.” He plucked at his hat nervously. “Rubbing salt in the wound, weren’t you all?”</p><p>Linong frowned. “Don’t be like that, Zhangjing. You know that there wasn’t any bad intentions behind this.”</p><p>“Then why?” Zhangjing countered angrily. “You called me to our reunion, knowing that my ex-boyfriend was going to be there, whom I’ve successfully avoided for just about three years now, and don’t even give me a heads up so that I can compose myself for it?”</p><p>“Because you would have said no,” Linong said back, almost exasperated. He put his hands on Zhangjing’s shoulders and peered down at him from his looming height. “Would you have said yes if I told you off at the start that Yanjun might come this year?”</p><p>“I-” Zhangjing cut himself off. Linong knew him too well. “I still wish you would have told me, though. Made me feel more prepared and less caught off guard.”</p><p>Linong’s expression softened as Zhangjing looked away from him. His voice was lower now. “I just wanted all nine of us together, Zhangjing. It’s been three years since they’ve seen all of us together. They deserve Nine Percent just as much as we all do.”</p><p>A part of him that was bitter and angry wanted to shout that no, they didn’t deserve Nine Percent, not when he himself lost the right to that title so many years ago. They didn’t deserve it, because it was precisely what took Yanjun away from him. </p><p>But then, he remembered the stages, the yelling fans each time he performed today, the way their fans still came to all their concerts and protected them and appreciated their passions, and he remembered how the ocean of multicoloured lights looked on the day of their disbandment as they joined hands and bowed to the crowds. </p><p>Zhangjing sighed. “Fine. But make sure nothing happens tonight. I don’t… I can’t…” He couldn’t bring himself to say just how he felt in the moment.</p><p>Linong didn’t promise him anything more, but he did pull him into a huge. “It’s been three years, Zhangjing. I think it’ll be better if you see each other now anyways. The others thought so as well.”</p><p>“Did <em> everyone </em> else know?” Zhangjing said, muffled, into Linong’s suit. </p><p>“...maybe.” Linong pulled away from him. “But don’t be mad at them. It was a group effort.”</p><p>“I fucking hate all of you, then.” Zhangjing sighed and readjusted his hat. “Let’s go back before they think that I actually killed you.”</p><p>“And Zhangjing?” Linong said, when Zhangjing made for the bathroom doors. Zhangjing paused. “Just know… it’s been three years. The past is in the past. It’s not 2018 or 2019 anymore.”</p><p>Zhangjing swallowed. “I know.”</p><p>***</p><p>Zhangjing went back with lips tightly pressed together, wondering what he would say to the others when he got back. In the end, he took the seat between Xiao Gui and Justin, and tried his best to join in the conversation between the two regarding their own music projects.</p><p>“You still haven’t collabed with me yet,” Justin said to the two of them through a mouthful of rice. He playfully nudged his shoulder, leaning into him much like a little brother would. “Is this your way of saying that you don’t love me anymore.”</p><p>Xiao Gui scoffed and flicked him on the forehead, earning a yowl from the boy. “You didn’t even ask me to collab with you before now.”</p><p>“Yeah, cause you’re mean!” Justin cried. He clung onto Zhangjing’s arm like an octopus. “Zhangjing-ge is the nice one; I wanna collab with <em> him </em>.”</p><p>“Justin,” he chided gently, then sighed, ruffling his hair up. “I’ll collab with you if you finally start getting more sleep at night.”</p><p>“Yeah, you need to stop being online 24/7,” Xiao Gui jabbed.</p><p>“Like you aren’t online all the time either,” Justin screeched. </p><p>“I haven’t gamed for an entire week now!”</p><p>“Yeah, you’ve been at Jie-ge’s studio making music with him. That’s basically the same thing!”</p><p>They continued to squabble amongst each other, reaching across Zhangjing occasionally to punch or flick each other on the forehead. Zhangjing leaned back and fiddled with his hat, looking fondly at them and at the rest of the table. </p><p>Xiao Gui and Justin were still arguing playfully with each other. Zhengting was sitting beside Xukun, doting on the man and peeling shrimp for him to eat. Xukun himself was laughing at how much fuss Zhengting was bestowing on him, grinning at Ziyi over Zhengting’s antics.</p><p>But then, he slid his eyes to where Linong was sitting, directly across from him, and how Lin Yanjun was right beside him.</p><p>Yanjun was grinning with that classic Yanjun-esque smile that made his dimples pool at the side of his mouth. He was listening to something Linong was laughing to him about, and if Zhangjing strained his ears, he could hear something about a funny encounter Linong had during filming for an MV two weeks earlier. But more importantly, Yanjun was smiling -- not at him, of course --, but he was smiling, and Zhangjing was suddenly reminded of how this was the first time in three years that he had seen that smile in the flesh, right in front of him.</p><p>Yanjun turned his face to him for a brief sliver of a moment, and Zhanging was suddenly staked to his seat, uncomfortable with the possibility of eye contact with the man, yet helpless enough to do nothing but stare back. Yanjun had that effect on people.</p><p>However, to his relief, Yanjun said nothing. In fact, he didn’t even look at him. He just glanced his direction, passed his eyes across him as if he was nothing more than empty space between Justin and Xiao Gui, before going back and talking to Linong all the same.</p><p>Zhangjing thought that perhaps it should hurt, how indifferent Yanjun was to him now, but then again, he wasn’t supposed to think that way anymore.</p><p>***</p><p>Disbandment.</p><p>It was a word Zhangjing dreaded to hear in the months leading up to October. </p><p>Was he disappointed with how Nine Percent turned out in the end? In a way, yes. Incredibly so. While he was by no means ashamed or disappointed with what each of them had accomplished, it was the group overall that he was disappointed in. Each time he opened his Weibo, all he would see in the supertopic would be hopeful Nines still waiting for their variety, still waiting for a day where they could see them all together again. The same seven songs from their one album they released would glare back at him, and Zhangjing would be so disappointed with everything that he would have to log out.</p><p>So yes. He was disappointed, in some ways at least.</p><p>However, when the days started to shorten, and suddenly, they were in the weeks leading down to disbandment, Zhangjing had time to really stop, and really think for a moment: what was it that he had gained from the time with the group?</p><p>Friends? Undoubtedly. Zhangjing didn’t think that he would meet a group of people so different yet so uniquely and passionately bonded together, but here he was, with eight brothers he wanted to be with forever. Experience? For sure. Money? That wasn’t a question.</p><p>But what else had he gained? He had a group of people who loved him now, the millions of Xiyous who called his name each time he stood on the stage, but was that enough? Sometimes, he would look at Weibo, and sometimes, he couldn’t help but glimpse into Douban (despite the very logical part of his brain telling him that that was never a good idea), and he would see articles, posts, comments, talking about how much of a <em> failure </em> he had become.</p><p>It wasn’t always him, and to be honest, Zhangjing would be even angrier each time he saw someone rip into Linong’s past or laugh at Xukun’s masterpieces, the very protective part of his heart for his little brothers flaring up hot for the sheer blindness they all seemed to had to their hard work, their talents, their passion. But sometimes, it was him, telling him how fat he was, how ugly. How he was the least successful member of Nine Percent, the one who only slipped in at ninth place, the one who no one knew. </p><p>Sometimes he would relay these comments to Zhengting or Linong or Ziyi, and they would all tell him the same thing, the mantra they always told each other: <em> don’t care about them, they’re wrong </em>. </p><p>And sometimes, he would tell Yanjun about them over video call, and watch the other boy purse his pretty eyebrows in concern for him.</p><p>“You know those aren’t true at all,” Yanjun snarled when he was done telling him about one particularly vicious post on Douban. “If they were all true, then <em> none </em> of us would be anything worth paying attention to. Can you say that we’re all useless?”</p><p>“No, of course not.” Zhangjing frowned at him. “But that’s not the same thing, is it?”</p><p>“How are you any different from the rest of us?” Yanjun countered, a bit angry now. “Zhangjing, the only thing you have different from the rest of us is that you can outsing us every time we go for karaoke, and hit notes that none of us can ever imagine hitting. Why don’t you think about that more?”</p><p>“But Yanjun-”</p><p>“No buts. You shouldn’t be looking at mindless garbage like that anyways,” Yanjun said hotly. He paused for a moment, then said, gentler, “Okay, that was harsh. I’m sorry. I just don’t want you to get caught in some downward thinking spiral, Zhangjing.”</p><p>Zhangjing shook his head. “I wouldn’t.”</p><p>“You say you won’t, but then you go looking for posts like these to push you that direction.” Yanjun shook his head. “Don’t look at them anymore, will you? For me, love.”</p><p>Zhangjing blinked a few times, then let it slide. “Okay. Are you going to be in Beijing soon?”</p><p>It turned out that Yanjun wasn’t, but that was becoming a common theme in their relationship. Sometimes, Zhangjing would even forget how Yanjun’s hand felt against his own, would forget the feel of his sweaty skin under his lips. In those moments, he would close his eyes and strain his memories for the dangerously fading moments he had stored away of his boyfriend. Sometimes he would remember, but other times, he wouldn’t.</p><p>That was another part that had changed over the past eighteen months, wasn’t it? </p><p>Once, a few months after Banana had essentially told them to break up, one of Yanjun’s managers asked him to give him a call.</p><p>“Yanjun’s career is taking off,” he had said. Zhangjing bit his lip.</p><p>“Of course it is. It’s Yanjun.”</p><p>“Yes, but because he’s still a relatively new artist, he can’t risk anything bad happening to him. Any scandal -- no matter how minor -- would destroy his career.”</p><p>Zhangjing pressed his eyes shut tightly, and when he opened them again, he had to clear his throat before talking.</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>And he <em> did </em> know, leave no doubt for that. Zhangjing knew perfectly what their relationship could mean for him, could mean for Yanjun, could mean for <em> both </em> of them. And while Zhangjing was used to the hateful comments, and could accept a reality where he was dragged down to earth, his dreams dashed apart by something as simple as a picture of them holding hands in a restaurant, he couldn’t imagine the same for Yanjun.</p><p>In his head, he still saw Yanjun as that beautiful, confident man who turned into stardust each time he had to call his parents in Taiwan late at night. He still saw the way Yanjun’s lips would move and tremble, the way he would press his lips tightly together for a few moments, as if to contain himself. And he saw the way Yanjun moved in the studio, not with grace like Zhengting or the sheer power Xukun had on stage, but with <em> purpose </em>. Like he knew he wanted this for himself, and would do anything to complete it.</p><p>And whenever he began thinking of that last part, he would begin thinking of how kind Yanjun was to everyone around him, how thoughtful he was, how complicated and beautiful the parts of him were, and all of that would remind him that, hey, Lin Yanjun wasn’t his anymore. </p><p>Yanjun didn’t belong to him. He belonged to himself. Himself and his future. And Zhangjing couldn’t risk taking that away from him.</p><p>So when disbandment day crept up on them, and inevitably, the final disbandment concert, Zhangjing went in with a full heart and heavy mind, deciding to make the one decision that he thought was the right thing to do.</p><p>He went in. Performed. Danced Rulebreaker for the last time. Sang Forever and 离不开 as the platform with all nine of them rose high up into the air, illuminated by the rainbow lights of each of the fandoms in the stadium. He said his thanks, his goodbyes, and tried not to look at Yanjun when the man began to cry on stage. He tried not to look at anyone’s tears. </p><p>And when they sunk back down into the ground, Chengcheng and Ziyi already sobbing into their hands, Zhengting crying into Xiao Gui’s shoulder, and the rest of them frantically trying to wave for the last time as members of Nine Percent, Zhangjing didn’t look at him either.</p><p>He only looked at him later on that night, many, many hours later, when they were safely tucked away into the hotel together, each of them safely retreating into their rooms they shared with another member. Zhangjing sat on the edge of the bed as Yanjun showered, and nervously played with the rim of the hat he had worn that day.</p><p>Yanjun came out, drying his hair with a towel, smile wide as he looked at him. “I love showers.”</p><p>Zhangjing scoffed. “I know that.”</p><p>“It’s been a while since I’ve taken a really long one though. It’s bad for the environment.”</p><p>“So I’ve heard.”</p><p>Yanjun sat beside him in the bed. “What’s on your mind?” He leaned close to Zhangjing, so close, in fact, that Zhangjing could see the steam on his lashes and the tiny mark at the tip of his nose. He looked like he wanted to kiss him, to take advantage of this moment where they were allowed to be together, perhaps, but he didn’t. He waited for Zhangjing. </p><p>He took a deep breath.</p><p>“I want to break up.”</p><p>***</p><p>There was a knock at the door, an hour or so into dinner, and Zhengting was up in a second, face breaking out into a smile. “Chengcheng’s here!”</p><p>Zhangjing turned to the door, and smiled wide when he saw Fan Chengcheng stumble inside, his cheeks red from the evening cold, his eyes a bit dazed from the flashes of the paparazzi that had gathered outside. Then, he winced as Xiao Gui shrieked from beside him, “The big man is coming through!”</p><p>Chengcheng scoffed at him. “Big man? I thought that we agreed that that was Cai Xukun.”</p><p>Xukun frowned, a pout already creeping its way into his voice.</p><p>While Zhangjing didn’t usually text Xukun on a daily basis, and while Xukun wasn’t his go-to whenever he needed to talk about simple things or random occurrences in his life, he was, interestingly, usually the one he turned to when he had larger, more important decision to ponder over or think through. Perhaps it was because despite how soft and how much of a kid Cai Xukun could still act like, Zhangjing deep down still held an immense respect for the man. There was just something untouchable with how hard Xukun worked for years on end before his well-deserved popularity and success, something unforgettable with how devoted he was to his craft. Zhangjing saw himself in Xukun in some ways, or really, he admired him for certain things he was proud of himself for: how Xukun had stayed devoted to music, all these years, just as he had promised. How he survived through not only a failed debut and a terrifying multi-millionaire debt for things out of his control, but also from some of the most vicious internet attacks Zhangjing had ever witnessed in the entertainment industry. How he cared so deeply for each and every one of them, thinking of them all the time, and making it known to them and the watching world around them. </p><p>Zhangjing talked to him whenever there were bigger decisions to be made, because somehow, Xukun’s opinion and insight on his own issues had, over the years, become the ones that he felt most securely about. And similarly, it was his eyes that he turned to when he glanced to his side and saw Justin, staring hard at Chengcheng, his jaw clenched tight and hands pressed together.</p><p>Xukun looked back at him with the same feeling of worry he felt. That was another part of their bond, maybe, with him being the leader and Zhangjing being the oldest. Both of them felt a sort of guardian-like responsibility for each of the other boys.</p><p><em> Oh no </em>, Xukun seemed to say to him.</p><p><em> Oh no, </em>Zhangjing tried to say back. Zhengting and Ziyi and Linong and Xiao Gui were on their feet now, all laughing and fussing and jabbering at Chengcheng, leaving him, Yanjun, Xukun, and Justin the only ones who were still seated.</p><p>“You Zhangjing,” Chengcheng called. Zhangjing grinned at him. “Why aren’t you giving me a huge hug like the rest of them? You finally stopped skipping the reunion this year?”</p><p>Zhengting pinched Chengcheng’s arm, and he yelped. Zhangjing decided to ignore any possible feelings of awkwardness. “I wasn’t skipping them on purpose, and I’m not getting up when it’s <em> you </em>who’s late.”</p><p>Chengcheng shrugged, but came over to him all the same. He threw his arms around him, and Zhangjing hugged him tightly. “Haven’t seen you in a while. You’ve been so busy acting.”</p><p>Zhangjing could see Justin tense up a bit out of the corner of his eye, and while he smiled at Chengcheng all the same, and clapped him on the shoulder as he leaned in closer to them both, he could see the nervousness coming off him, and how both of them -- Chengcheng and Justin -- could feel that something was <em> wrong </em>.</p><p><em> I’m so lonely </em> , Chengcheng had said to him once, a rare evening where he had time to have dinner with him. <em> I’m so lonely, Zhangjing-ge, and I don’t know why </em>.</p><p><em> I wish you would look harder at what’s right in front of you </em> , he wanted to say back then. <em> You should think about who has been waiting for you this entire time. </em></p><p>He wanted to say it just now too, but then he remembered what Zhengting told him about Chengcheng wanting to date his co-star who he barely knew, and then he remembered Linong telling him about how Justin had gotten drunk out of his mind at Linong’s apartment after a particularly strange period between him and Chengcheng.</p><p>Sometimes, Chengcheng and Justin would fall far apart, wouldn’t talk to each other normally like how they used to for weeks on end. But then, just as naturally, they would come back together, completing each other they always had. Right now was the former, and it was reflected in how oddly stiff they were with each other.</p><p>Zhangjing thought about this as Chengcheng pulled away from him and went around the table to sit himself between Ziyi and Linong. But before that, he passed by a very still Yanjun and pulled him into a hug, laughing already about the lack of Wechat posts Yanjun had apparently sent. </p><p>In a moment of weakness, Zhangjing let his eyes stray on Yanjun too long, and Yanjun turned to him, this time, no longer indifferent. They met eyes for a second, holding each other with their gazes. Zhangjing swallowed, too many memories and feelings he had kept buried away flooding through him too suddenly. </p><p>But then, Yanjun looked away again, and Zhanging was left hating himself for still allowing him to think the way he did about Lin Yanjun. For letting himself relive all the memories just because Chengcheng and Justin were having their own problems, and because this was the first time in three years that he had been near to the man he was in love with.</p><p>Then again, the man was unforgettable for a reason.</p><p>***</p><p>“What do you mean, break up?” Yanjun’s voice was flat as he pulled away from him, his eyes dangerously still as he looked at him. </p><p>“I mean what it means,” Zhangjing said softly. “I want to break up.”</p><p>Yanjun rubbed his face. “What’s bringing this on so suddenly? Did something happen?” He pulled his hands away from his eyes, face suddenly angry. “Did the company say something to you? Any of my management team?”</p><p>Zhangjing shook his head quickly. While that wasn’t exactly the full truth -- he had been asked many, many times now to break up by both higher ups as well as Yanjun’s team -- it was the important one. This precise decision was his.</p><p>“Then why are you saying this?” Yanjun asked. </p><p>Zhangjing bit the inside of his cheek nervously. “Because I think that moving forward, breaking up would be the best thing for both of us.”</p><p>Silence.</p><p>Zhangjing tried to continue. “I… I need to focus on my career. And you do too. Nine Percent just disbanded, and now it’ll just be us on our own now. We don’t have this group to fall back on anymore; we’ll have to fight for everything ourselves, and this relationship is just going to get in the way.”</p><p>“So you think that this relationship is just a hindrance,” Yanjun said flatly. He shifted away from Zhangjing. “Nothing more.”</p><p>Zhanging shook his head quickly, already beginning to feel upset. “No, no! It’s not. I just don’t want to have it turn out like that. Yanjun, you need to focus on your career, as I do. All the rest of them do. And Yanjun, we barely see each other anyways, and we barely talk anymore like we used to. Don’t you think that breaking up is the right thing to do?”</p><p>Yanjun looked at him like he was some sort of animal, barking something that he couldn’t understand.</p><p>“I can focus on my career while still dating you. Zhangjing, I’m in <em> love </em> with you. Don’t you know that?”</p><p>“I know,” Zhangjing said weakly. “That’s why we have to break up.”</p><p>Yanjun paused. He seemed to understand what Zhangjing was asking him.</p><p>In true Lin Yanjun fashion, he indulged him. Yanjun didn’t try to press it any more than he had to. Zhangjing had imagined their break up to be something dramatic, something akin to what he saw the break-ups to be in movies. But instead, Yanjun was nothing else but gentle and a whole lot sad in oppose to angry.</p><p>He did, however, make sure. “You’re sure about this, are you, You Zhangjing?” Yanjun asked carefully. Zhangjing looked down at his hands, his eyes hot and heart quivering, afraid to meet Yanjun’s eyes again. “You have to be sure. Do you really want this?”</p><p>“I’m sure,” Zhangjing said with difficulty. He felt like his heart was breaking. “I want this.”</p><p>“You...” Yanjun sighed, swallowed. “You promised to stay with me though, didn’t you?”</p><p>Zhangjing couldn’t say anything.</p><p>“I see, I see.” Yanjun swallowed again. He got up and walked across the room, turning off the lights. Then, he came back and sat at the edge of the bed, his voice lower and sadder than Zhangjing had ever heard it. “I understand now.”</p><p>Zhangjing lifted his head. He wanted to see how Yanjun looked, wanted to see if he was crying, if there was anything that he could feel for to realize that he was making the worst decision of his life. But Yanjun had turned the light off for a reason, and all he saw was his silhouette, slightly swaying now.</p><p>“Lin Yanjun,” he said after some time, his voice thick.</p><p>“Yeah?” Yanjun said back softly. Zhanging thought that he could hear the heartbreak in his throat as well. Yanjun moved closer to him, seeming to realize what Zhangjing was asking him in his lack of further responses. “You want this, one last time, do you?”</p><p>Zhangjing didn’t reply, but he felt Yanjun’s breath against his lips. </p><p>Yanjun sighed as he leaned into him, slotting his mouth where he had slotted it so many times before, but unlike all the times before, this time, there was something off. Rather than complete him, the kiss felt like it was rearranging the pieces that Zhangjing had of himself, messing them up until they no longer fit the way they used to. Zhangjing closed his eyes and let himself be pushed down onto the bed, tucked his arms around Yanjun’s neck as he kissed him in that <em> wrong </em> feeling way and later on, dug his nails into the span of Yanjun’s back.</p><p>He didn’t remember how Yanjun looked after it was all over, but he did remember the morning after, when he woke up, not for the first time, but it felt like the first time all over again, to an empty bed, his sheets cooling in the unforgiving morning.</p><p>Yanjun left early, the others told him at breakfast. </p><p>Yanjun hadn’t said goodbye to him when he left.</p><p>Zhangjing wouldn’t see him again for three years.</p><p>***</p><p>Though Zhangjing had told Yanjun that they were breaking up for the sake of their careers, not because Zhangjing didn’t want him anymore, but because he loved him, and because that would just hurt them more, it didn’t make it any easier to come to terms with in the weeks following.</p><p>For days, Zhangjing slipped through life like he was a ghost, dead to anything that might have reignited him before, trying to figure out what was supposed to happen in his life now that the sun it revolved around was gone.</p><p><em> NINE PERCENT, </em> the world around him screamed. <em> NINE PERCENT IS NO MORE. </em></p><p>It wasn’t really over, with how they all promised to remember the name, and to never erase it from themselves for as long as they lived, but for now it was over, because Zhangjing destroyed the innocent, loving connection they all had for each other the moment he decided to cut ties with Lin Yanjun. </p><p>It wouldn’t be Nine Percent without nine, and Zhangjing couldn’t allow nine to happen again. Not when he already had to break Yanjun’s heart to do so. </p><p>So Zhangjing went through the first few months like a dead man, working hard to fulfill what he had remembered was supposed to be his dream, trying not to think about what was now missing from his life.</p><p>Yanjun sent him one message after their break up, a simple goodbye on text, followed by a package in the mail with his house keys in a neat little box. Zhangjing looked at them when he opened the parcel and heard the clinking of metal against metal as it jingled in his hand, really looked at them, before throwing them into a drawer and slamming it shut.</p><p>The others asked -- of course they did -- and Zhangjing told them the truth. There was nothing to hide anyways. Linong looked at him with his large eyes when Zhangjing told him over dinner, and didn’t say much except to ask him to look after himself.</p><p>He probably was disappointed, then, when he found Zhangjing in his apartment, weeks later, drunk out of his mind and heaving dryly into a toilet bowl.</p><p>Zhangjing’s memories don’t exactly hold up to what happened that evening, but in his blurry conscience he remembered drinking until he threw up, Linong showing up abruptly when Zhangjing doesn’t want to answer the phone, and then, Linong cleaning him up and tucking him into bed.</p><p>He remembered crying too, continuing to heave even though there was nothing left inside of him, sobbing not only from the memories he wouldn’t have anymore, of the thought of Yanjun’s dimpled smile and gentle arms and the way he looked when he glanced at Zhangjing while on the phone with his father, but also of the nine of them. Of times past that he wouldn’t be able to recover.</p><p>Linong tucked him into bed before climbing in right beside him, tucking Zhangjing’s face into his chest, hugging him tightly and letting him cry.</p><p>In the morning, Linong got the whole story out of him -- the <em> whole </em> story, including Zhangjing’s thoughts and feelings and all -- and Zhangjing didn’t do much except for eat the rice porridge the boy cooked up for him.</p><p>“Do you still love him?” Linong asked finally. He was exceedingly kind, Zhangjing thought, so gentle and sweet and knowing of what Zhangjing needed at the moment, but the question still struck him hard anyways.</p><p>It had been two months after disbandment, so it was easy to say that he still did. However, Zhangjing knew what he was really trying to ask him: <em> are you still going to love him </em>?</p><p>Zhangjing knew the answer to that.</p><p>“I do, and I’m scared that I’ll never stop hurting,” he confessed, tearing up again. “I threw away the best thing I’ve ever had in my entire life, and even if it was the right thing to do, why does it still hurt so much, Nong?” </p><p>Linong was silent for a few moments.</p><p>“It won’t stop hurting, Zhangjing,” he finally said softly. The amount of maturity he possessed for such a young kid was astounding, having gone through more in his short nineteen years of life than many others had in their entire lives. Zhangjing wished he could be like him. “But you have to make the most of it, don’t you? You can’t hurt yourself like this again. You need to cherish what you gave up too.”</p><p>Zhangjing didn’t really remember much else after that, but he did remember crying again.</p><p>***</p><p>Even though Linong told him to not do stupid things like get drunk out of his mind, Zhangjing was still stupid enough to down shot after shot that was given to him, sipping at the drink in his hands nervously as the others talked amongst each other, letting the burn of alcohol take the place of the burning that was growing inside of him. </p><p>He drank so much that by the end of the night, he was weak and shaky, his brain spinning and vision flickering in and out, so much so that he barely noticed how suddenly, the room was so empty. </p><p>He blinked hard at the table, seeing that no one was seated there.</p><p><em> Oh, right </em> , he thought idly. <em> They all went to the bathroom. </em>He seemed to recall how minutes earlier Linong asked the rest of them to go to the bathroom together, just like how they did back in 2018.</p><p>He couldn’t seem to remember why <em> he </em> hadn’t gone with them, but them, the door was opening again, and Zhangjing turned his head drowsily to see Lin Yanjun step through the doorframe.</p><p>Yanjun took a few steps towards him, and perhaps, it was because of how drunk he was that Yanjun, for the first time in three years, was looking at him. <em> Really </em> looking at him. </p><p>Yanjun squatted down by Zhangjing’s chair, surveying him with dark eyes. “I thought you don’t drink.”</p><p>“Times change,” Zhangjing muttered, his head heavy. He thumped it against the table. “Times change.”</p><p>“They sure do.” Yanjun frowned at him. Zhangjing couldn’t decipher his gaze at all. “Why are you drinking so much, You Zhangjing?”</p><p>Zhangjing turned his head to look at him back, saw the curve of the nose he was so familiar yet unfamiliar with, saw how sallow his skin had become from all of his filming, saw how, now that he could look closer, his eyes were dark and wide and hurting just as much as Zhangjing felt inside.</p><p>“I miss you,” Zhangjing choked out, and it was the most pitiful thing he had ever said. “I miss you, Lin Yanjun.”</p><p>Yanjun was silent.</p><p>“My dad approves now, did you know?” He started slowly. “He’s proud of what I’ve done now, and tells his friends about how hard working, handsome, and successful his son is. Did you know that?”</p><p>“No,” Zhangjing slurred back. His vision dipped in and out, but he stayed, mesmerized, on Yanjun’s face.</p><p>“Of course you don’t, but I had to tell you, You Zhangjing. Back then, when you were the one who was so worried about how my relationship was with my family, you always wanted to know if my father and I’s relationship had gotten any better. And I’m telling you now, it has.”</p><p>Zhangjing tried to nod, but just ended up lying there, feeling even more hurt than he had before.</p><p>“The days aren’t the same without you, did you know that?” Yanjun continued on, slowly. “Three years, Zhangjing. Three years where I haven’t seen you, and now, Linong tricks me into coming here without saying that you were coming too. You’ve been trying to avoid me, just like how I’ve tried to erase the memory of you in my head as well, haven’t you?”</p><p>Zhangjing nodded.</p><p>“I’ve tried so hard, You Zhangjing. I thought that I wanted to respect your decision, and that if I erase as much of you as I could, I could forget about how much I was hurting inside, and how lonely I felt for the first time in so long. I tried, Zhangjing. I really tried.”</p><p>“I tried too,” Zhangjing slurred. His mind was spinning, and his mouth was loose with feelings he had kept bottled up for more than three years now, ever since their names were announced together on debut night, all the way back in 2018. “I tried so hard to forget.”</p><p>“Did it work for you?”</p><p>“No,” he replied truthfully.</p><p>Yanjun looked at him for a long moment. “You’re wearing what you wore for our disbandment concert, right?”</p><p>Zhangjing blinked blearily. “I am.”</p><p>Yanjun bent again, kneeling so that his face was level with Zhangjing’s. His expression was careful, cracking at the edges with a sort of resigned sadness that Zhangjing also felt inside of himself. “I’m still in love with you, did you know that?”</p><p>“... no,” Zhangjing said after a pause. He was so tired. “I didn’t.”</p><p>“Well, you do now. I’m still in love with you, You Zhangjing. And now that I’ve finally seen you again, I’m realizing that I always will. I don’t care about all the crap about careers you said before. Fuck all of that. I still love you.”</p><p>“You do?” Zhangjing’s head was spinning painfully, a throbbing ache resonating through his skull, making his eyes pulse around how Yanjun seemed to have broken down in tears again, how his own heart was tearing itself up all over again at just the sight of Lin Yanjun sad like this.</p><p>“I’ve kissed so many pairs of lips ever since that day,” Yanjun said softly. “all to forget what you were like. But even after all of them, none of them feel like you. None of them make me feel like how I feel when I’m with you. Even now.”</p><p>Zhangjing blinked his eyes hard, suddenly realizing that perhaps the blurriness in them wasn't only from the alcohol. “I tore myself up for years after disbandment, wondering if I had made the right choice.”</p><p>“Do you think you did?”</p><p>Zhangjing thought about all the nights alone, remembering golden days where he and the other Banana boys could go to the movies together without judgement, where Yanjun would link his fingers with his and smile down at him. He thought about a pyramid of chairs, numbered from one to one hundred, multi colored sweaters and flashing cameras pointed at him everywhere he looked. He thought about fan meetings of days past, dancing with his brothers to the first people who would love him for who he was, screaming the name that brought them together and made their futures. He thought about Yanjun’s eyes when he said he wanted to break up, how he had kissed him so gently even when his heart was breaking. He thought about how he had never forgotten all of these details in his life, how, after everything was gained and lost, at the end of the day, all he wanted was to hold a certain silver haired boy’s hand again.</p><p>“I don’t know,” he said, and it was the truth. It perhaps <em> was </em> the right choice to make, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. “But I don’t want to keep hurting like this anymore.”</p><p>Yanjun looked at him, his eyes saying a thousand things at once but at the same time, one simple message that Zhangjing thought he always knew anyways.</p><p>“You don’t have to keep hurting,” he said softly before enveloping him in a hug.</p><p>***</p><p>Once, a year and a few months after their break up, Zhangjing opened his laptop and searched up, “Lin Yanjun”, nothing more, nothing less. </p><p>He spent the afternoon listening to his songs, looking at his magazine covers, watching his dramas. He even watched how Yanjun kissed his female co-stars, like he had everything to give to them.</p><p>That was how Lin Yanjun kissed. He kissed not to take, but to give. That was just one of many things Zhangjing loved about him, how willing he was to give to others, how kind and thoughtful he was in every decision he made. How strong he was.</p><p>Zhangjing thought about the nine of them, how they had promised each other to meet at the top, once they were all beautiful and shining stars in their own rights, worthy of being brought together again in one, united flame. </p><p>He hoped that once he and Yanjun were stronger, more healed, could understand themselves better and the industry and life they had chosen for themselves, he could be bright enough to shine with him again.</p><p>***</p><p>Zhangjing woke up with an arm around his shoulders, his face tucked into a warm chest. </p><p>His head was throbbing from how much he drank the night before, but for some reason, he couldn’t find it in himself to care.</p><p>He opened his eyes, and saw Yanjun’s face beside him.</p><p>There were so many things they would need to talk about, so many memories they would need to relive. Zhangjing would need to call Linong and Zhengting and the rest of them sometime, ask what it was that made them think that he and Yanjun, after so many years, still belonged to each other. He would need to tell Yanjun everything that had happened to him when Yanjun was gone, and he would need to hear what Yanjun had to go through as well. They would both need to tell each other what it was exactly that made them hold on so desperately for three years, and so many years before that.</p><p>But there would be time for that.</p><p>For now, he watched as Yanjun stirred, blinking a few times in the pale morning sunlight, the sheets moving around his body as he turned and pulled Zhangjing closer to him. He looked at him, smiled.</p><p>He doesn’t let go of him again.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>there we go. </p><p>did you know that that was actually what zhangjun said to each other when they hugged during debut night? </p><p>yzj: "did you ever expect this?"<br/>lyj: "never"</p><p>thank you all so much for reading this! again, this was definitely one of the most enjoyable things i've had the pleasure of writing, and i think it's because i really got to love each of the members of nine percent in this fic. i hope all of you continue to love them the way we do right now, because they deserve it, and they're nine percent. </p><p>leave a comment or kudos if you like, i would love to see what you thought of this ♡</p><p><a href="https://twitter.com/ramenreee">twitter</a> | <a href="https://curiouscat.me/ramenree">cc</a><br/></p></blockquote></div></div>
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